


5 Times They Noticed And That 1 Time They Didn't (care)

by ghettoassenglishman



Series: Take my hand--Take My Whole life too [50]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Confessions, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 11:25:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3976330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoassenglishman/pseuds/ghettoassenglishman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anon asked! : Gallavich prompt: Mickey and Ian have been best friends forever and are very touchy-feely and everybody in their family has wondered if they're actually together and hiding it or not, until they DO get together and nobody notices</p>
            </blockquote>





	5 Times They Noticed And That 1 Time They Didn't (care)

**Author's Note:**

> This was so so funny to write and I don't know why omfg HOPE YOU LIKE IT

                  1. _**Fiona**_




 

It wasn't a mystery that Ian and Mickey were best friends; it was a moral fact that Fiona already knew because she had watched the two grow up together. Due to bad parenting, Fiona had literally been the guardian for the Gallagher kids. Monica was always running off, selling drugs, turning up time to time to try and resolve things; but really, she didn't give a shit about the kids. Frank – well, it's Frank he preferred to have kids to give him a higher income, steal from the fund, _and_ to give him a bed to sleep at night. Well, that was before Debbie had finally come to terms with his way and given up on him. That was quiet a celebration in their household. And really, Fiona had been a parent towards the Milkovich kids; Mickey and Mandy, and even occasionally Iggy, would stay round at their house. It wasn't bad, despite their reputation she knew they were good kids.

The thing was, she had never really noticed it before, she just thought it was a thing they did. Before she went for work, she'd see them sat on the couch, watching a movie or just pigging out. One thing stood out for her, they were pretty touchy-feeling for best friend duo.

“Hey guys, I'm going to work.” She yelled as she walked through into the living area. Neither of them turn from the couch, both enchanted into the shitty movie they had picked out for the millionth time. She's sure it's Van Dame, only because they'd argue about it non-stop. “Ian? You going to do something productive today?”

Again, Ian ignores her, he turns to Mickey and slaps harshly at his thigh, bursting into laughter. Mickey grunts, punching at his shoulder. “You fucking dick.” He grumbles. Fiona just stands by, watching the little interaction.

“ _Me?_ Have you looked in the fucking mirror?” Ian barks back, hitting Mickey's thigh again before flinching away at Mickey's thrown punch. Fiona sees this most of the time, but still – it confuses her. She's always wondered if something else had been going on between the two.

“You love my dick.” Mickey randomly blurts, oblivious to the fact that Fiona was literally stood behind them. It strikes her back, mainly in confusion, because she's a little worried that Ian actually _had_ seen Mickey's dick. Was that what best friends did these days? God, she'd never know she didn't have a best friend besides Liam.

Ian shakes his head, giggling a little. “Wouldn't know.”

Even from behind the couch, she could see Mickey's eyebrow arch, a snigger at his lips. “You sure about that, Gallagher?” _What._ Now Fiona is confused. Those two had been friends since little league, literally inseparable. They were pretty clear that nothing was going on between them, and to be honest Fiona wasn't sure whether it would be weird to see them like that.

Before Ian answers, she takes it as her time to stop whatever conversation would escalate. Coughing, clearing her throat, she kicks the back of the couch, shocking them out of their wits. They both turn abruptly, eyes wide like deer in the headlights. Ian's hand moves away quickly from Mickey's leg, a innocent smile plastered over his face. “Oh, hey Fi.”

Narrowing her eyes, she informs them, “I'm going to work, make sure Frank doesn't stumble in. Social are here tomorrow and I ain't having his shit all over the place.” They both nod, way to enthusiastically. She's a little suspicious, but they were nothing more than friends right? They just had some weird touchy-feely thing going on, that _obviously_ was nothing in a friendship. Right?

 

                    1. _**Iggy.**_




 

There were many times he had noticed Ian's presence; the kid literally lingered around Mickey like a coffee stain on his jeans, or some sort of parrot that copied his brothers actions. Really, he had learned to get used to it, it was something he _had_ to do. After Terry was slammed into the can Ian was around more often, as if he actually lived in the house.

All Iggy knew, was that Mickey and Ian were friends, probably best friends, and he really didn't have any suspicions that they were more. Well, he didn't until he saw the two randomly touching each other, not sexually, but just little touches that caught the eye.They ate pizza bagels, smoked pot, drank endless amounts of alcohol. If they were a couple they'd do more than that, right? It didn't stop him from being curious. It was his brother after all.

Ian had just left, some job interview or something like that – Iggy really wasn't one to care – Mickey slumped beside him, as if he'd been slapped in the face. Now, that was something to be curious about because Mickey made that face every time Ian would leave.

“You and Gallagher are pretty close, huh?” He asks, pulling out his joint and lighting it up. _Yes, Iggy. You asked the right shit._ Mickey turns his head, scowling a little, squinting his brow he nabs the joint from his hands, taking a drag.

“Well, yeah,” Mickey answered as if it was obvious. “Known the kid since little league, fucker won't leave.” Iggy could tell Mickey was leaving a huge amount of detail out, he could tell by the way Mickey's nose scrunched up a little when he said Ian's name; almost like a reflex, telling him that Mickey was missing something out.

Scoffing, Iggy takes the joint back. Still curious. “You don't have to be bashful, I don't give a shit who you fuck.” Which, really, he didn't. If Mickey and Ian was fucking so be it, they could stick it where they wanted it as long as it wasn't in his bed. There were still rules; one main one; don't fuck in Iggy's bed, or you'll get shot in the dick.

Mickey slightly blushes, making Iggy more intrigued. “Where the hell are you hearing this shit? Ian's just a friend, aright.” Again, the brunettes nose scrunches. Iggy smirks to himself. Even if nothing was going on, he _knew_ Mickey wanted it to.

“You don't have fucking friends.” Iggy laughs.

“Well, neither do you.” Mickey snaps back, avoiding eye contact. God, he was shit at lying. “Besides, it would be fucking _weird._ ”

That's when Iggy nearly was drawn into the image of them two being just friends; maybe they were. Still didn't explain the sly, small touches they gave each other. Scoffing, one to know his brother more than many people in the shitty place, he rolls his eyes, “Yeah, really fucking weird.”

 

                    1. _**Carl**_




 

Ian had a lot of friends, more than a lot, but Carl's favourite was Mickey. The Milkovich was rough, good with his fists, _and_ he had a huge weapon collection that Carl literally wanted to rummage through and shoot about. The thing was, Ian had a lot of friends but Mickey was _always_ there. They would sit in the front room and play video games, talk all night and wake him up laughing, get high in the van out back. Best friend stuff really, he guessed. 

That was until, Mickey started staying over more than usual, making a bed on the floor out of blankets from the couch. Carl thought nothing of it till one day he walked through and saw the two wrestling, hands roaming over each other like the actors in a porno would do. Not that Carl would watch that stuff,  _ gosh.  _ It shocked him, only a little, because over the years he has gotten used to it. Mickey and Ian never left each others side, but everyone just guessed they were close. 

For some reason, Carl thought differently, he makes sure to get Ian alone for this one. 

“Right, Gallagher, I'm outta here.” Mickey shouts as he tumbles down the Gallagher stairs, rushing through the house and slamming the front door, nearly knocking Carl out. Frowning, he wonders why the hell Mickey was there in the first place, _and_ why he had to tell Ian he was leaving.

He rushes upstairs, finding Ian doing pull ups against the bar hanging over the door. “Hey, Ian?” He calls over, dumping his bag into the corner of the landing. Ian grunts something, probably a _what_ or _the fuck you want?_ But Carl talks anyway. “Mickey your boyfriend?”

Ian's eyes widen, more in confusion that anything. Carl throws light punches to Ian's chest as he moves up and down against the bar. Shaking his head, Ian replies in a grunt. “Ha, no. Why would you think that?” There's a little edge in his voice, like he wants to say something else, but Carl shrugs it off.

“He sleeps here like every night.” Carl says, thinking back to the past week where he had no sleep due to the two idiots laughing at the other side of the room. Fuckers.

“His house is shit,” Ian nods, pulling himself up once more before dropping to his feet. Wiping his brow, he squints, “Can friends not sleep over, is that a crime?”

Carl tilts his head in question, unable to read Ian's expression or a secret meaning behind his words. Instead he smacks a hand against Ian's chest, before reaching down for his bag. Okay, maybe they were just friends, maybe they were just closer than normal friendships. He could deal with that. “I guess not.”

 

                    1. _**Kevin**_




 

“I ship them.” Kevin blurts out as he watches Ian and Mickey slip into the booth on the opposite side of the bar. They were squished closely together, arms overlapping. Veronica narrows her eyes, nudging his arm a little, looking over to the two. “Shipping? What the fuck is shipping? I'll ship you to Africa if you don't move your ass.”

Rolling his eyes, Kevin waves his hands before he explains. “Where you see a pair and you want them to be together. _I_ want them two to be together.” This conversation happens at least once a day. Mickey worked for him, and Ian _always_ stopped by, like he was checking up on him or something.

“Give it up, they are just friends.” Veronica laughs, pushing past him to pour out a glass of beer.

“ _Friends?”_ Kevin nearly shots, turning around to his wife with wide eyes. “Look at the size of that booth, it's like that birthing pool we hired instead of a bouncy castle.”

“And?”

Huffing out in frustration, Kevin turns his back to the boys. “Mickey is literally sitting on Ian's dick, just look-” Veronica whips her head over his shoulder, he pushes a hand out, “No don't fucking look, they will _see_ you seeing them.” When Kevin turns Mickey and Ian are scrunching their faces at them in confusion. Kevin just waves, before pulling Veronica further behind the bar. “Just watch.” He whispers.

So she does. The two are laughing loudly, hands brushing a little against their glasses. Ian's tilted his head to Mickey, smiling adoringly from what Kevin could see. Next minute, Ian's shouting something before pulling two tequila shots across the table.

“What the fuck am I watching?” Veronica shouts in a whisper, narrowing her eyes. This was normal, she saw this everyday. Kevin points his finger, hoping the two didn't see.

Ian grabs a tub of salt, licking a stripe across the top of his hand, and shook it against his skin. He grabs a lime from the top of his whisky and slips it into his mouth. From where they are stood they could hear Mickey grunting in reluctance before surging forward and latching his lips to Ian's hand, lapping up the salt. Ian's giggling in a slur as Mickey downs his shout and leans forward to take the lime from Ian's mouth, lips basically brushing.

“Shit,” Veronica breathes, shaking her head in a laugh. For all they knew they were just good friends. Now they were definitely _close_ friends. “That's hot.”

Kevin had never wanted to ship it, hell he had only just found out a week prior what shipping was when Debbie had explained it, but Ian and Mickey _were_ pretty hot together. No one actually could see it, because he was sure they hid their feelings under their long friendship, but Kevin would always notice the slightest things – bartending gave him the skill of being observant.

 

                    1. _**Mandy and Lip.**_



The four of them had _always_ been best friends, (even if Mickey thought Lip was a dick most of the time) Ever since Ian and Mickey became close friends, they all seemed to merge into a group. Except, it all kind of changed when Mandy and Lip got together, they all separated a little bit. On rare occasions though, they would all get together and just drink.

This night, Mandy demanded they played truth or dare.

“Fuck you and your shitty game.” Mickey spat, downing yet another drink of Vodka. Ian reaches his hand out and smacks the bottle of the shot glass, causing the brunette to spurt out his drink. Mandy and Lip exchange glances, both thinking the same thing, _What the fuck._

Mickey smacks Ian against the chest, harshly. “Fuck you, Gallagher, I'll beat your ass later.”

Lip leans over to Mandy, whispering something as the other two continued to bicker like a married couple. It was funny really, Ian and Mickey really did _try_ not to show it. “Ay, fuckheads.” Mandy shouts, raising her hands up to stop them from arguing. They both turn around, pressing their lips together.

“My turn,” She smiles, smugly, nodding towards Lip. “Mickey. Truth or dare?”

Flipping her off, Mickey spits a little, the burn still in his throat. “Fuck off, It's just been me.”

“Fine,” Lip buts in, wanting an involvement in finding out more about the two. Sure, he knew the two were friends, probably closer than that, but something had changed recently. They would touch each others legs, or wrestle each-other randomly, it wasn't _that_ normal. They might as well fuck with the rate that they were going at. “Ian. Truth or dare?”

Nudging Mickey with his elbow, shattering the brunettes laugh that echoed, he nods. “Fine. Truth.”

Clapping his hands together, Lip goes a head. “So, you and Mickey fucked yet?” Mandy bursts into laughter, clutching to her side as Mickey's face drops to zero, and Ian literally stutters on his breath. The two of them were shit at being subtle; Frank could probably lie better than them.

“What kind of question is that?” Ian groans, rocking against his crossed legs. Mickey bites at his lip, shooting glares towards the sniggering pair across the carpet. Them fuckers and their loud mouths.

Still snickering, Mandy slurs, “One you've got to fucking answer.”

Mickey groans louder, head in his hands. “Why you gotta ask that shit?” Without thinking he leans forward and downs the next shot, wincing a little at the burning sensation in his throat.

Lip raises an eyebrow, because the two were sure acting suspicious. Ian claps his hands on his thighs, knowing that the two wouldn't let this one go if he didn't answer. Shaking his head, he says loud and clear, to the two's surprise. “No, we haven't fucked.” Mickey takes a look at him, confirming the answer with a bite to his lip.

Not to subtle, Lip thinks. “My turn,” He snickers, nudging Mandy again. God, this would be great. Ian scowls, looking as if he wants to leave. “Mickey. Truth or dare.” No matter what the man chose, he and Mandy had a plan for the whole night. Pissing them off till they crumble.

“Fuck sake,” Mickey mumbles to himself. Believing he's dodging a bullet, he answers, “Dare.”

Before Lip could answer, Mandy's hand clamps to his mouth, eyebrows twitching deviously. She'd always wondered if something was going on with the two. “I dare you to fuck Ian.”

The room goes silent, until Lip bursts into a fit of laughter, smacking a hand against his chest. Mickey shoots up, taking the bottle of alcohol with him, flipping them all off. “Fuck you.”

Lip looks towards his brother, who's trying hard to hide his blushed face. Then it clicked, maybe there was something going on with the two – they only tugged at their legs about it because they both liked dick. But it could be true. They could _actually_ want each-other. Ian was always hit at lying.

 

**+1**

 

Ian and Mickey had been best friends since Little League – it all started when Mickey ran over and kicked Ian down to the ground, grinning like an idiot, sleeveless jacket wavering in the wind. That, well that was when their friendship bloomed. After that they became inseparable, never doing anything without the other. Friday nights were dedicated to ruining their livers, and weekdays were filled with wagging class and pissing off teachers. It all changed when Ian came out, just causally blurting it to Mickey one night they were high, and Mickey – well, he sunk further into the closet that day. Ian always had the confidence, the popularity, the looks, and Mickey would feel like he was living in his shadow sometimes.

Until – the day that Ian had pushed Mickey into the wall, arguing over some guy that _obviously_ wasn't good enough for Ian, but of course, Ian wouldn't believe that. Before Mickey knew it Ian was pressing his lips to his, roughly licking at the seam of his lips, kissing into his mouth like he had nothing to lose. Mickey hadn't even come out yet, hell, he wasn't even sure how. But months later, after that kiss, he came out infront of the whole bar, hoping that Ian would hear him.

That's when they became a _thing,_ under the noses of all their families, all of their friends. It seemed like no one hand noticed; they hadn't said anything, anyway.

Ian pecks Mickey's lips, gently. “We have to tell them.” It was obvious that the redhead wanted people know, Mickey knew that already, and it was obvious that he would want it to happen when a party was going on literally under their feet.

“Why the fuck they gotta know, what difference does it make if they do?” Mickey asks, frowning a little. Ian walks over and smooths a finger over the wrinkles forming over Mickey's forehead, chuckling a little.

Ian tuts, tilting his head with a smile. “They're family, they ought to know that I'm fucking my best friend.”

“Not in those words.” Mickey scoffs.

Face splitting into a smile, Ian's hand grips to the side of Mickey's neck, cheeks flushed. “Now stop being a stubborn ass and show your face.” And god, Mickey couldn't say no to that face. All Mickey was really worried about was the reactions they would get, it wasn't like anyone would expect it.

“Fuck off, you prick.” Mickey pushes at Ian's chest, shaking his head towards Ian's smug grin. The things he fucking did for that guy. “You're telling them, fuck telling the truth.”

Ian pulls him in with a fist to his shirt, faces barely inches apart. “Not your game, huh, telling the truth?” Mickey arches his brow, challengingly, licking his lips at the rough hands gripping him in.

“You'll find out later.”

 

***

After a quick round, making sure the single-bed didn't bash against the wall and interrupt the music blaring from down the stairs, Ian and Mickey finally reach the bottom of the stairs, facing the crowd that looked unaffected by their entrance. Nervously, Mickey sticks behind Ian, following him towards the crowd hovering around the kitchen counter.

Slapping the counter, Ian yells over the music - “Ay up!” No one turns around, his voice obviously wasn't loud another. Smacking it again, he shouts louder. “Fucking shut up, I've got an announcement to make!” The music suddenly shuts off, people mumbling in grunts as they turned to Ian.

“You've got herpes?” Carl shouts from the couch. Ian shakes his head.

Lip smacks at his head, inputting, “Genital warts?” Mickey turns around and flips him off, shooting him a glare that was useless intimating him any more.

“No, I, uh,” Ian stutters, stepping closer to Mickey, all eyes on the two. “ _We_ have something to say.”

Veronica walks past, small table in her hands, nudging past them. “Hurry up and say it, we've got shots to take and games to play.” Everyone cheers, the music blaring back on again. Ian groans, knocking his head against Mickey's shoulder. It looks like everyone forgot he had even wanted to speak and went back to the party.

“Fuck it.” Mickey mumbles, flapping his hands. He grabs Ian by the scruff of the neck and pulls him down into a kiss, mouth attacking his into a passionate kiss, tongues dancing together in an awkward but coordinated motion. Ian finally sinks into it, hand wrapping around the small of Mickey's back, pressing their chests together. The music still plays, and when they pull apart no one seems to have noticed.

“What the _fuck,”_ Ian mutters, frustrated. Mickey chuckles beside him; it always got fun watching Ian get stressed about this shit _and_ know that he was right. No one actually gave a shit. Ian grips to Mickey's wrist, pulling him over to the group formed around the table where they were taking shots off Kevin's chest. “Hold the fuck up, I've gotta say something."

Kevin smiles wide, hands waving in the air. “Ian! You want to have a shot, got a little left?” He points to the small puddle at his bellybutton, winking towards them. Ian groans, swaying on his feet, before pulling Mickey around and kissing him directly in sight of those at the table.

“Jesus, do you mind doing that here?” Mandy pretended to hurl, grimacing. “Go and get a fucking room.” The rest of the groan, rolling their eyes as Ian pulls way from Mickey.

Mickey snorts, still a little confused. “Wait, what?”

Lip comes by, smacking them against the back. “We already know. Hardly subtle let me tell you. Hey, Fi, you owe me twenty bucks!” He calls, placing his hand palm out towards the eldest Gallagher. Fiona groans and pulls out a note from his back pocket. “Fuck you.”

Veronica reaches into her bra, slamming it against Kevin's chest with a disgruntled groan. Kevin cheers, kissing the note before waving it in the air. “I knew it! I fucking knew it.”

Ian raises a firm hand, stopping the cheering and the mumbling. “Woah, woah, woah. What did you fucking know?” God, now he was confused. What had they all bet on? Mickey shakes his head, shrugging when Ian looks towards him for answers.

“That you and Mickey were fucking.” Debbie calls from the table, feeding Liam a chip.

Mickey chokes on his spit, holding a hand out towards Ian's shoulder. They stand in shock, unexpected that everyone already knew. Hell, they probably knew before they knew that they liked each other.


End file.
